Dancing with Meaning
by writerspassion18
Summary: Hermione was stunned. Ginny, who had disappeared into the crowd after the previous dancing exercise, materialized next to her. She, too, had a look of surprise on her face. "Who would've thought Malfoy would've turned out to be a ballerina?" She scoffed.
1. Silhouettes Coming to Life

"Get in there. _Come on_," Hermione grumbled inaudibly. She was sitting in front of the mirror on her dresser with a few hairpins sticking out of her mouth and taking one by one to stick in her hair in order to keep it pinned up. Without a doubt the rest of her hair would be accompanying the few pieces that were hanging by her cheeks that refused to go into her messy bun, but at the very least it shouldn't be happening _now_.

After Hermione felt satisfied with her hair, she spat out the remaining two hairpins from her mouth and stood up so she could make her way over to her full-body mirror. Her dress was red and strapless with a bit of a flare that reached just below her knees so that when she walked it swished and swayed.

"Perfect for dancing," Hermione commented as she fished out her black shoes that matched the black sash that was wrapped around her waist and outlined the hem at the bottom of her dress. Just as she had put the shoes on her fireplace ignited, and she could hear her name being called from the living room.

"I'm coming!"

Hermione left her bedroom and out to the living room to see Ginny standing in front of the fireplace and angrily wiping soot off from her black dress.

"Why did I Floo? _Why_ did I Floo?" She was mumbling and Hermione, though she knew why Ginny was being so obsessive, couldn't help but laugh. Ginny looked up and her cheeks tinged massively. She held her hands in front of her and shrugged her shoulders. "I've gotten soot just about everywhere."

"Yes, and you've a wand too." Hermione smiled. She took out her own wand and pointed it at Ginny's dress. Though it was black, soot stains were still a tad visible, but completely cleared with a spell. Ginny thanked her and pushed some of her hair behind her ears. "Gin, it's just a little dance class."

"Oh, easy for you to say," Ginny chuckled. "You're a natural. Rodney's going to think I'm horrible. You know I've got two left feet."

"I doubt you stepping on his toes will make him take back his marriage proposal with only three months until the date. Besides, your first dance with him will be great no matter what. Now let's get going."

Ginny groaned as Hermione took her hand in order to disapparate. They landed in Millbury, a small wizarding community nicknamed "Instruction." It was so named because the place was _filled_ with places to learn many different things. There was a pottery shoppe, _Knitting Nancy's_ in order to learn how to knit, dueling classes, how to ride a broom with flare, and much more. Among the many places to learn a craft was a dancing studio, and it was there Hermione had signed herself and Ginny up for a dancing lesson.

Ginny was getting married soon and from the moment she had gotten engaged and began planning the wedding, she was griping and moaning about the wedding dance. She complained about not knowing how to move to a tune and about how she looked like a complete idiot on the dance floor. "No one will remember the ceremony." Ginny had whined. "They'll only remember me tripping over myself."

To shut Ginny up Hermione said that she'd do a dancing lesson with her. To that Ginny only had more negative things to say. "Do you _want_ me to feel self-conscious? _You_ know what you're doing out there!" Hermione had rolled her eyes to that and promptly ignored her. Ginny made her out to be a pro, but that definitely wasn't the case. As a child, Hermione's mother's dream was to have her daughter learn ballet. And so that turned out to be the case. And for a little while Hermione had also been introduced to ballroom; those lessons having been interrupted when her Hogwarts letter came.

And so Hermione could brag and say that she knew how to stick to a beat and how to twirl without getting dizzy and falling down and how to move with a partner, but any more than that? She was no champion dancer.

Truth be told, aside from trying to assuage Ginny's fear of dancing, Hermione wanted to get near the dancing teachers. Every time she passed by the dancing studio, the storefront window was covered by a beige shade and, perhaps enchanted to do so, the silhouette of the dancers could be seen. It was an attractive sight –to never see the faces of the dancers, but just their shadows? It made dancing alluring, anonymous even.

Hermione had passed by the studio so many times that she had even begun to be able to tell the silhouettes apart –from teacher to student and from among the different teachers. There was one teacher in particular Hermione had gotten to know. He was the best of them all. He had a way of making the worst student a prodigy. How? Hermione wasn't certain. But she was hoping that she would find that particular teacher tonight.

"Good evening everyone!" a tall, slightly aged, slender brunette addressed the room. She was in charge of the dance studio and oversaw all of the lessons, but never in particular showed anyone how to dance. Rumor had it that she had injured herself years ago, inhibiting her dancing feet. But that injury didn't do anything to her mouth. Her dancing abilities didn't just inhabit her feet, but the woman lived and _breathed_ it. She instructed her dancers by mouth alone and gentle bodily adjustments with her dainty fingertips.

A true teacher, if Hermione didn't say so herself.

"My name is Magnolia Byrnes. You may simply call me Maggie. You're here for a dancing lesson to which I applaud you. I'd like to take the time out to remind you that this is an informal and therefore _free_ event. For more formal and thus more practice in dancing, you may sign up for private sessions at the end of this workshop. Now, up and on your feet, please!"

Hermione smiled while Ginny forced hers. Maggie went on to encourage everyone to spread out and to grab hold of a partner.

"I'd like to assess what dancing you can and cannot do." Maggie announced. "After that my experienced dancers will work with you all one-on-one."

"Will your prodigy be one of the experienced dancers?" someone from the crowd giggled anxiously. Maggie smiled to that and answered the young woman's question by saying that he was running a bit late, but would be arriving there shortly.

Hermione found herself being asked if she had a partner yet by a man who was old enough to be her father. She politely smiled and told him no, striking up the customary dancer's position by placing a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. Maggie announced that the song she was about to play was one made for the Waltz.

"Dance according to how you _feel_ a Waltz should be danced." Maggie urged everyone. "Not from what you might have seen or heard of it."

"Just let me know if the Waltz is a fast or slow one." The older man laughed, and Hermione laughed along with him. She was generous enough to tell him that it was a slow dance, also going as far as saying that it had a light and airy feel to it.

"Let yourself go while doing it." Hermione helped. The music came on booming, yet delicate as well. Usually the man led, but in this case it was the opposite turn of events. Hermione led the gentleman's feet. She counted out loud. She went even slower than the music so the man could feel comfortable. Truth be told he wasn't all that bad. A few more lessons and maybe he'd be able to dance without looking down at his feet and checking to see if he was stepping on his partner's toes.

The music ended just as quickly as it has started. The man thanked Hermione for being his partner and she did the same. Everyone's attention was being brought to Maggie who was clapping her hands and smiling.

"That was great everyone, thank you. I managed to get a casual look at all of you while you were dancing, as well as my fellow dancing instructors who snuck into the room while all of you were distracted."

"Sneaking up on people sounds so rude, Maggie." a voice said; the holder of that voice emerging next to her. Maggie laughed and then gestured her hands to him.

"Everyone, this is, as someone pointed out earlier, the prodigy of this studio as well as my second in command. Draco Malfoy,"

Hermione was stunned. She stood there, staring at him as he smiled perfectly –showing off the top row of abnormally white teeth –and fixed the collar of his black, loose-fitting button-up shirt that was neatly tucked into his black slacks. After having not seen him for at least eight years, the last time being a chance meeting in Diagon Alley and him promptly ignoring her, this was the absolute _last_ place she imagined him to be.

Ginny, who had disappeared into the crowd after the previous dancing exercise, materialized next to her. She, too, had a look of surprise on her face. "Who would've thought Malfoy would've turned out to be a ballerina?" She scoffed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. There were few times where Ginny made her become short-tempered and this was one of them. Clearly she had never watched a dancing competition with _real_ professional dancers. No one would dare call them ballerinas in such a tone. The women were meant to outshine the men with their colorful and sometimes revealing outfits, but the couple was meant to be looked at _as a couple_. But even then, when Hermione used to watch these competitions with her parents she found that she could never pry her eyes away from the men. It was amazing to her how they could look so masculine, and yet dance with such precision and form. In fact, she considered it the most masculine thing she'd ever seen.

And now Hermione was curious. Maggie called Draco her prodigy, as did someone else name him so. Could _he_ of all people resemble one of those mesmerizing professionals? She would soon find out for herself, so it seemed, as she watched Draco roll up his sleeves.

"Now, as much as I make fun of Maggie for sneak attacks, I commit a few myself." Draco smiled. "One of the few reasons why people hate to dance is the feeling of being watched. They over-think things. And yes, there're a few technicalities in dancing, but in order to learn those technicalities, you need a feel for the music first. You need to feel comfortable with it. Only then you can learn why that comfort comes so easily.

'And so, with that said, I think it's time for a show. Ava, if you don't mind?"

Hermione heard several of the women in the room groan out of jealousy. Out of the line of instructors that were standing against the wall a slim blonde approached Draco. She was smiling, as if taunting those in the room who wished to be in her position at the moment, and stood about two feet away from Draco. She was holding herself, her eyes closed, and head pointed towards the direction of the floor. Draco stood erect, his gaze casted to the floor as well. Soon music filled the room and Hermione knew at once what dance they were about to perform.

The Tango was a dance filled with romance and dripped of lust. Perhaps that's why every woman was seething with envy. Every woman except Hermione that is. She was jealous because of how Draco and this woman moved together. It started slow and precise. The pretty blonde removed her hands from her chest and pointed her fingertips to the floor; soon dragging her hands up her thighs. Draco brought his gaze to her, and soon he was advancing with calculated steps that went to tune.

She moved back as Draco moved forward, but she couldn't outrun him for long. Soon a hand was grasping hers, the other on her waist, her remaining hand on his shoulder and they kept to the music. One, two, three, a dramatic gesture of a head turn, a change in direction, or an envious leg that the blonde woman wrapped around Draco's waist.

Hermione watched with awe. Every move was intricate. Every move was flawless. And the longer she watched, the more flustered she became. Hermione had come to realize that Draco was that teacher she had been so intent on meeting. The silhouette she had been stalking –that she had intimately come to know –had belonged to him. There was no doubt in her mind about it, and at the end of the dance Hermione was clapping loudly; even more impressed now that her shadow had a name and a face.

"Well done, Draco. Ava," Maggie applauded. "And now everyone, don't let these two discourage you. You can be just as good as they are. With that said, I'd like for you to partner up yet again, except this time with one of the instructors. Draco and I will be walking around the studio and giving our two cents."

"I hate to admit it, but Malfoy was pretty good." Ginny said to Hermione as one of the dancing teachers approached her. Hermione had nodded in agreement. She had been staring at Draco indiscreetly, barely paying any attention when a teacher presented himself to her.

"Shall we get started then?"

Hermione nodded and smiled. She got into position with her instructor whose named she learned was Thomas. They would be continuing on with the Waltz, so he said, and went on to tell her how to position her body and her hands and how her feet should go. Hermione didn't bother to tell him that when she had taken Ballroom lessons for a short amount of time as a child; the Waltz being the first dance that she had learned. Not to mention that it was her favorite.

As they began to move to the music, Thomas was looking at her in surprise. He began to smile too and then laughed. "You've come to this session to support a friend, haven't you?"

"How did you know?"

"Your form," He grinned. "It's quite good. One would say that you hardly need lessons like these."

"But of course if she's mastered one dance, that doesn't mean that she's mastered them all." Came Draco's voice.

Hermione and Thomas stopped dancing. Draco greeted them both and then promptly told Thomas to take his place in doing rounds among those in the class. With him gone, it was just Draco and Hermione now standing in front of each other while everything around them was bustling. Draco wasted no more time. He held out his hand to her and with a small bout of hesitation, Hermione gave hers to him, and they both began to do the Waltz.

Immediately Hermione felt unpolished. She swore that she was stepping on Draco's toes or holding onto his shoulder much too tightly, but it was all in her imagination. Or maybe it wasn't and Draco was merely too polite to acknowledge her nervous gestures? Either way, the dance seemed to be moving flawlessly. Despite how packed the studio was, the two of them managed to take up a lot of dancing room as though no one was there. And though they were in each other's arms and in such a close proximity to each other than they'd ever been, eye contact between them was non-existent.

"…I hear Weasley's sister is getting married." Draco spoke. Hermione felt his hand tighten around hers; perhaps as a consequence of her placing extra pressure on his shoulder at his sudden speaking.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Around,"

Hermione gave a contemplative "hmm," and nodded as they twirled. It was then that she noticed that many of the couples had stopped dancing and drifted off to a side of the room to watch them.

"The wedding's in August."

"Tell her I said congratulations."

Hermione made an effort to look at him. His gaze was steady and avoided hers. She pursed her lips and cleared her throat. "You can tell her yourself. She's here, you know."

Draco looked at her. He gave an almost unperceptive shake of his head as the music, and their dance, slowed to a halt. "I'd rather not."

Whether Draco would've said more or Hermione would've gathered words to reply was something that wasn't pursued. Everyone had quarantined themselves off to the walls of the studio and had been watching them. Now that the dance was over they were applauding them, and Draco bowed, Hermione following suit before leaving his side and finding Ginny who had her hands on her hips.

"Hey, I'm trying to build dancing confidence here." Ginny playfully scolded. Hermione laughed and swore that it was unintentional. As the pair of them continued to speak, Hermione stole occasional glances at Draco who was speaking with Maggie. He was talking about something rather serious with her, so it seemed, and then his gaze went towards her. Hermione quickly turned away, trying not to make it so obvious that she had been staring.

She was only too happy to have the session end some moments later.


	2. Personifying Dance

That night Hermione went to bed with dancing figures in her head. Everything she did when she got home seemed to move with fluidity; as if it was going along to music that wasn't there. As she went to bed, her dreams were filled with silhouettes doing magnificent numbers. And at the end of them Draco had made his way into her dreamy solitude and was dancing with her.

That was the last thing to filter into her unconscious before waking up the next morning. She awoke to find a letter at the foot of her fireplace with her name on it and written in an unknown handwriting. When she had opened it however, she was more than surprised to find that it was from Maggie at the dance studio.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I know you must be a bit surprised at receiving this letter from me as well as possibly wondering what this could be about. You should know that I have conducted many dancing sessions in my time, and there are very few times where someone sticks in my mind. You can imagine why, I suppose, with the turnout at each session. It's rather hard to pinpoint one exceptional person, but last night I was able to do just that._

_I would like to discuss an opportunity with you, if you don't mind. Please, stop by the studio sometime today. It would be greatly appreciated._

_-Magnolia Byrnes_

"A bit surprised" was a bit of an understatement. Hermione was stuck on the words "one exceptional person" and was wondering desperately what Maggie could want to speak with her about.

Without wasting any more time, Hermione opted to skip out on breakfast, got dressed, and headed to the dance studio. The same silhouettes that appeared on the storefront window were there, but by their forms, she knew that neither shadow was Draco. Not that she was looking for him that is. In fact, if she was to see him she'd probably feel a bit embarrassed and self-conscious.

"Ah, you like to move bright and early, I see." Maggie said as Hermione entered the studio. "Follow me."

Hermione expertly avoided the dancers and followed Maggie into a back room where it seemed that she had recently made herself a cup of tea. "Would you like a cup as well?"

In all honesty Hermione was dying for some tea, but she politely turned the offer down and watched as Maggie sat down and used her wand to cool her tea some. After taking a sip, Maggie set the cup back down on her desk and cupped her hands on the table.

"You've had dancing lessons before." Maggie smiled. Hermione hoped she wasn't blushing and nodded.

"But they were so long ago. Ballet and a touch of Ballroom, but nothing more than that."

"I see… And I see that you're modest, too. But I must say that that ballet and a _touch_ of Ballroom has given you a wonderful dancing posture. Tell me, have you heard of the Regis Wallaby Dancing Competition that's held every year in Amsterdam?"

Hermione shook her head no, and Maggie continued. "Well then, as the name implies, it's a dancing competition. But it's only for couples that consist of a dancing professional and one who's not. Miss Granger, I'd like you to consider dancing with Draco Malfoy in this competition."

"…Oh, Maggie," Hermione was taken aback. She placed a hand on her chest out of surprise and attempted several times to give a proper reply, but failed miserably. "I'm honored really, but I don't think… Malfoy and I have… Our history… _Have you spoken to him about this idea of yours?_"

"He was the one that named you to be his partner." Maggie grinned mischievously; the left side of her lips curling upwards in a teasing manner. "Draco was impressed with you last night. And I don't think you could've missed how others dashed out of your way to give you the proper room to dance."

"I didn't miss it, no." Hermione said sheepishly. She took a deep breath and rubbed her left arm up and down. She was no dancer. She simply liked to do it every now and again. What did she know about competitions? Yes, the competition Maggie mentioned was _meant_ for those in Hermione's position, but to be partnered with Draco? It was bad enough that they were terribly suited personality-wise, but his dancing technique was…perfect. Hermione wanted to do nothing to take away from his shine, and surely having her for a partner would do just that.

"Maggie, I-"

"Before you say no," Maggie interrupted. "Speak to Draco about it. I think it would help ease your decision. He usually eats breakfast here. If you go down this little hall and enter the fourth door to your left, you should find him."

Hermione nodded and slowly went in the direction Maggie spoke of. When she finally reached the fourth door, she wished she could've turned back and pretended that she had never even spoken to Maggie. But as she poked her head in she found that Draco was in fact there, and she couldn't take back her peek. He had already spotted her and it would've looked stupid not to continue on.

"Can I sit?" Hermione asked. Draco nodded and motioned to the chair in front of him. Sighing, she went over to the round table and sat down. She stared at the tabletop for a solid fifteen seconds before finally deciding to speak. "Why me..? Out of all the choices out there, I was the best you could come up with? If you don't mind me saying, it screams desperation."

Draco smiled. It was a cross between something genuine and taunting, as if he was having trouble deciding which one it should be. But instead of saying something degrading, he came out with something praising. "I know a good dancer when I see one."

"How did you even become one?"

"…Anger management…"

Hermione stared at him bemused. Draco shrugged and took a deep breath as he crossed his arms. "I did a lot of stupid things when I was a kid, Granger. You know very well more than half of them. One of those things landed me in front of a Ministry official, and as punishment he ordered anger management classes."

"And it landed you _here_?" Hermione gently laughed. "How on earth does dancing control anger?"

"As someone who detested my father, the official thought it would be funny. Aside from that, whether you realize it or not, you need control in order to dance." Draco said plainly. "In fact I'm more than sure that you don't realize it. You _have_ control. You _have_ form. And I think that you can help me to win."

"Malfoy, I-"

"And as an added bonus, you can run to Potter and Weasley and tell them that nearly a decade down the line since we've graduated from Hogwarts I've turned into a ballerina."

Hermione laughed out loud and put a hand over her mouth to calm herself down. Draco had clearly heard what Ginny had said the previous night, and now, feeling a bit defeated, Hermione slowly nodded. "Okay, Malfoy. But let me ask you this, what do I get out of this whole thing?"

Draco took a second to think. After a little while he began to smile. "I'll make you a deal. If we win, I'll answer that question."

"But wait, what sense does that make?" Hermione questioned, but Draco merely cupped his hands behind his head.

"As much sense as the two of us dancing together," He answered and proceeded to tell her that they should meet every day at two in the afternoon.

Hermione went home perplexed and in awe of what she had gotten herself into. She had just agreed to enter into a dancing competition with _Draco Malfoy_ of all people. Why had she done it? Maybe it was an innate desire to become one of those dancers; a small-time dream that happened to land at her feet. Or maybe it was simply because Draco had asked. To have someone like him _needing_ something from her…it was a rarity. And maybe also Hermione wanted to feel what his talent was. She had seen it enough from those days gazing at the studio and from the display he had put on during the free session. But to know that she'd be the center of all his concentration..? Now that was something, and she had succumbed to the opportunity.

The next day Hermione arrived at the studio a little before two. As she walked in she smiled at the dancing pair who was doing what she recognized as the Vietnamese Waltz. It was Ava and someone else, another professional dancer. They looked perfect together and moved with such grace that it was rather unimaginable. Hermione silently cheered them on as they danced, but she stopped herself as she perceived Draco at the far end of the studio, leaning up against the wall and watching them with what could only be called as anger.

Immediately Hermione had been taken back to the days when Draco was nothing more than a prat and nothing close to being civil. He almost seemed to be snarling as his heavy gaze lingered on Ava and her dancing partner, but quickly his disposition changed as Hermione came into his line of view. He almost seemed relieved to have something to distract himself with and smiled as she came near.

"Punctual as I expected you'd be."

"Yes, well, punctuality is engraved in me I suppose." Hermione shrugged girlishly. Draco nodded to her and said that they'd work in a private room in the back. He led the way there and soon they found themselves completely out of earshot of the music from the front of the studio.

Where they were was complete solitude. It was a rectangular room with mirrors for walls. It was also densely quiet. All Hermione could hear was the sound of hers and Draco's shoes as they took their steps –more so hers than his because, at Draco's request, she was wearing pumps in order to get used to dancing in heels.

And now, already feeling subconscious about the sound her shoes were making, Hermione was feeling even more so as she stripped herself of her coat and set it on the floor.

_Dancing attire is key..._

That's what Draco had said before she had left him the day before. He had directed her to a shoppe in order to get clothes that suit a dancer and told her to get whatever she thought she would need and to "put it under his name." Naturally Hermione bought as little clothing as possible so as not to run up his tab. Currently she was wearing a leotard; a black one with straps instead of sleeves that fit her body as though it was painted on. For added comfort she had a light pink skirt on as well that matched her pumps. Now that she thought about it, Hermione felt as though she looked like someone who had put much too much thought into her outfit and was now a tad embarrassed about it.

Sighing, Hermione set her hands on her hips and turned to Draco who had been staring at her. She huffed and egged him on. "What?"

"Nothing… You just look like a dancer."

Hermione smiled. "Well, that was the point, wasn't it?"

Draco smiled back and then nodded. "Yes. Yes, it was. And before we get started, we have to discuss one or two things first."

Two chairs were conjured in order for them to sit down. Once they were properly seated, Draco asked her a simple question. "What's your favorite dance?"

"The Waltz,"

"I could've guessed. You see, most often than not, a person's favorite dance reflects their personality. The Waltz is simple and classic. It's for those who may be the reserved type, and who don't mind expressing how they feel with others. It suits you."

"What's your favorite dance?" Hermione asked. Draco began to smirk and he rubbed his hands together contentedly.

"Tango… It's impulsive. Simple as that…"

"It can't _simply_ be impulsive." Hermione argued. "There's a lot more than meets the eye to the Tango than just impulsivity."

Draco cocked a brow at her. "Was that a compliment you just gave me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and hastily said no. "I was commenting on the dance. Not _you_, Malfoy."

"But _that's_ what I'm trying to get across to you. There's no such thing as _just _a dance and _just _a dancer. There're many things that define a person, Granger. And if you're a dancer, music and dance define you. The Tango defines me, and the Waltz defines you. And now that we're on that topic, what do you make of it?"

"Make of what?"

"Our dance preferences,"

Hermione bit her lower lip as a thought passed through her and then she stared back at Draco. "I think they're two dances that are on completely different ends of the spectrum. Much like we are,"

Draco nodded in agreement. "We're on different ends alright. And we have to choose a dance that suits us _both_. As dancing partners we're not two different people. The dance we choose defines us just as individual preferences define the individual. What do you know of the Paso Doble?"

Hermione shook her head. "I mean, I've _heard_ of it, but nothing more than that."

"Well, I'll tell you this: it's one of the hardest dances to master. It's fueled by anger and seriousness. Every move is precise. It's not like the Waltz where if you make a subtle mistake, it can be waved off as something done on purpose. And it's not like the Tango where almost anything goes. The Paso Doble is strict. It's fierce. And it's flawless."

"And that's what you think we are?" Hermione held in a laugh and shook her head in disbelief. "You think we're _flawless_-?"

"Flawlessness comes from technique." Draco said firmly. He had stood and took out his wand in order to produce music in the room. "When I think of us I think of our history. And all I see from our history is anger and hatred. _That's_ what we are. That's what we've always had. And that's why we can pull it off.

'For this dance, Granger, I'm counting on one thing and that's for you to hate me."


	3. Reaching and Passing Perfection

Hermione learned more about dancing in one day than she'd ever thought one could learn in a single lifetime. She grew an appreciation for Draco who seemed so tuned-in to all of this. The way he talked about dancing resembled nothing short of passion. After spending a bulk of her childhood with him, this was _not_ on her list of things she thought that he'd grow passionate about. But then again, Draco's favorite dance was the Tango. So Hermione had admitted, there were a lot of things imbedded within the Tango that people may not see so easily. She supposed now that Draco's love for dancing was one of those things.

As for Hermione, she had always liked dancing, but only for recreational purposes. There were only a few instances where she thought of what it'd be like to be a professional dancer like the

people she and her dad watched on TV. But that thought had never lingered. As the first week of dancing practice passed by Hermione had grown a hatred for dance. She had grown a hatred for hate as a matter of fact.

That's what the Paso Doble was made of. There was no smiling. No slow, sensual gestures. No gentle steps. No floating on air. Faces were meant to be stern and every gesture was meant to be hard strokes. The woman was able to display some sense of femininity, but that was one of the hard parts: trying to be feminine while also being harsh. Draco argued fiercely with her on this, and Hermione was moments away from screaming at him several times before internalizing it. She figured that if she kept her annoyance of him as a dancing instructor on the inside, then maybe it would come out in her dancing.

It was a good theory and on occasion it worked. But it was only the first week, and despite Draco's nitpicking, he was smiling after four and a half hours of practice on Friday and offering to pay for dinner after "a day's work well done."

"I knew dancing would be a lot of work, but I swear that if we don't win I'll bite my hand off." Hermione said as she snapped her menu open. Draco laughed.

"It's a lot of effort yes, but at the end of it you're proud of what you did."

Hermione nodded. The menu she was holding only contained drinks so she supposed that's what they would order first. An odd setup almost, not to have the menu for food there too, but she didn't think on it too much. She decided on champagne, rewarding herself for working so hard, and set the menu on the table with a contented sigh.

"You know, I still can't imagine you here." Hermione said after a short pause. "As a dancing instructor… I mean, I know that you said you went to the studio as anger management, but why did you stay?"

"Maggie," Draco replied simply. A waiter came to their table and took their drink orders. As he took their drink menus, he gave them the menus for food of which only Hermione took hers to look through because Draco had become too preoccupied with talking. "The Ministry official had put me under her supervision. I was nineteen back then."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "You've been at the studio for seven years?"

"Seems longer than that to me… Of course I didn't want to be there. Maggie had her hands full and was close to Owling the Ministry to say that she refused to continue to take me on."

"What changed then?"

"…Maggie partnered me with Ava."

"…You know," Hermione said slowly. "As I think about what you said about dancing partners and the dances that suit them…I can't help but think about you and Ava and the Tango you two did."

Draco stared at Hermione curiously. She didn't notice however. She was too busy hiding her face behind her menu.

"You've been learning." Draco smiled. He took a moment to peruse his menu and then set it aside. "Ava and I have been together on…a number of occasions. And though it was attempted, a relationship never went any more than that."

"Why not..? If you don't mind me asking, that is,"

"Well, think about what you know about the Tango as it applies to a couple and you tell me."

Hermione put her menu down on the table and thought for a moment. She then cleared her throat and said, "As beautiful as it looks, the Tango is nothing more than a staged play; an act filled with nothing more than faux emotions."

"Exactly," Draco replied sternly. And Hermione wondered heavily if that day when she had come to the studio and saw him watching Ava dance the Vietnamese Waltz with another instructor, if that anger on his face was imbedded with jealousy? The Vietnamese Waltz was all about the sharing of emotions after all –the opening up of oneself and giving your all to another.

All at once Hermione felt sorry for him.

Arrive at two, the music starts, and Draco makes Hermione practice dancing across the floor with precision and fierceness –alone and with him. Facial expressions were practiced in one of the many mirrors as well as to each other so as to make sure neither cracked a smile. The competition was a month away in August –the weekend before Ginny's wedding –and they had been practicing for a month already.

Hermione was tired. Each time she showed up to practice Draco seemed to be holding her hand tighter and tighter. He twirled her faster, his steps were harder, and his critiques were sharper. She was completely fed up with him every time she was with him. On countless occasions she had threatened to murder him, which had the adverse effect of making him smile. He'd then go on to ask if she hated him, to which she'd quickly say yes and then the practice would resume again. At least at the end of everything Hermione could genuinely smile. Not just because it was over, but because Draco stopped being such a slave master.

Truth be told, outside of his instructor persona, Draco smiled often. His sarcasm was down to a minimum, and even when he used it, it was never in a degrading way. He and Hermione laughed after every session. They spent about an hour or so after practice each day talking about what had been going on in the other's lives for the past eight years they hadn't seen each other. Hermione already knew for the most part what had been occupying Draco's time, namely the dancing studio, so she simply talked about herself. It was a boring tale, so she thought, but Draco was attentive nonetheless.

"I was _not_ scowling at you."

"You were too!" Hermione argued. She rolled her eyes and stretched. "I've had to deal with your face _glaring_ at me for years. I think I'd be able to recognize it even if it was a brief encounter."

"Okay, fine, maybe I glared at you _all those years ago_." Draco gave in, making sure to emphasize his last few words. "But give me some credit. That was before anger management."

Hermione shrugged and took a deep contended breath. She was laying on the floor of the studio, as was Draco some feet from her. They were talking about the last time they had seen each other before meeting up again at the studio. Of course one remembered the event differently than the other, which was now the subject of their small debate until Hermione decided to bring up a different topic.

"Hey, why didn't you want to tell Ginny congrats on her wedding? You seemed so reluctant to talk to her the day of the free dancing lesson."

"Should I have been eager?" Draco scoffed. He sighed and rolled onto his side so he could see her instead of just hearing her voice. "We don't have such a pleasant history in case you've forgotten."

"So does that mean our history was a picnic then?" Hermione laughed. She rolled over onto her side as he did and saw the expression on Draco's face signaling for her to continue her thought. "...It's been a little over a month and I still don't fully understand this, you know. You felt that way about Ginny and yet you danced with me. Why?"

Draco looked like he didn't want to answer. He was hesitant to speak and when he did, his words were quite surprising. "…I was transfixed by you." He took a moment to sigh and continued. "Do you feel as I do when you watch someone dance? I mean _really_ dance? Well, imagine that and _that's_ my motive for dancing with you that night. I wanted to see if you were as good as you looked."

"…And was I?"

Draco smiled. "That's something else I'll answer when we win."

Hermione smiled too and moments later she was gathering her things. It was about four-thirty in the afternoon, long after the time she usually left, and she finally decided that it was best that she got going. She bid Draco goodbye and he waved her off. As she reached the front door of the studio Hermione groaned in annoyance, realizing that she had left her umbrella in the practice room. Granted she was in a wizarding district and could very well use her wand to get through the rain to the apparation spot, but her house was in muggle London, and she was sure that her magic there would get her hanged. Sighing, she made her way back to where she'd come, but slowed her steps. Maggie was in the room with Draco and she sounded none too pleased.

"I still don't understand why you're doing the Paso Doble with her!" Maggie said exasperatedly. "I'm not saying that it's bad. It's lovely, but you need _chemistry_. You'd fair much better doing the Waltz. Or at the very _least_ the Tango..!"

"The Paso Doble is fine," Draco defended. He crossed his arms about his chest and clenched his jaw. "We've only been at it for a little while and she's not a professional. We'll get it perfect eventually."

"It should be perfect by now, you know that. What was one of the first things that I taught you?"

Draco sighed. "Perfection comes first, absolute perfection second."

"_Yes_. And after all this time you should be pass perfection and working towards absolution."

Maggie took a deep breath. She conjured a chair and sat down, seeming to be relieved to get off of her feet. "I need you to win, Draco. I don't dance anymore, but even standing causes my feet agony. You know that I'm retiring from here at the end of the summer, and if you're to take over this studio, winning the competition and collecting the prize money to buy this place from me is necessary.

'_Please_, Draco, do a different dance. The technicalities for the Paso Doble are there, yes, but the facial expressions and emotions are not. The dance needs _anger_ and fierceness. You've expressed the reasons why you chose the Paso Doble in the first place. But how you felt towards Miss Granger back then certainly isn't how you feel now. The same goes for her.

'Choose another dance."

Hermione made sure to back away from the entrance of the practice room slowly so as not to attract noise. Once she was far enough and sure that the sounds of her shoes wouldn't give her away, she threw herself through the front door of the studio and right into the rain. She didn't even use her wand. All she cared about right then was getting away from the dance studio, and casting a spell to repel the water would only waste time of her escape.

When the music started the next day Hermione was ready. Draco stood in front of her, strong and proud, and all she saw was a deceiver; someone who told half-truths and left things out for their own personal gains. The first part of the dance was supposed to show repulsion. Hermione thought that to be easy at this point as she stood afar off, her gaze casted to the side. At the proper moment Draco strode over, and at the proper beat Hermione looked up, fierceness in her eyes. At the right drop in tempo, she moved backwards at each step he took, but his advances were to be bigger than hers. Soon Draco's hands were clasping her wrists, and their bodies swayed sharply to the left and then right to give to give the illusion of a struggle. Only Merlin knew how badly Hermione wished Draco knew she was struggling for real in order for him to release her.

But now it was her turn – a moment in the dance where Hermione gains the upper hand and she wrenches her wrists away from him, raising her arms above her head. There was very little space between the two of them at this point, but Draco took a step forward either way. A fit of rage, no longer imaginary, forced her to push him away from her. As he stepped forward yet again, Hermione placed a hand on his chest and, rhythmically to the music booming around them, she continued to push as they walked. A slap to the face wasn't executed, because Draco caught her hand, and snatched the other from his chest. They were in the customary dancer's position now, and they used up the entire space of the dancing room; going around and around and twisting their bodies in swift movements according to the tune of the music.

Once again Hermione gave Draco a sharp shove. She had broken free. She hastily turned from him and ran, soon feeling his hands grasping her upper arms. She felt herself leaning back onto him, as she raised a perfect leg in the air with pointed toes. Slowly she was realigned to standing position. And quickly she was being turned in Draco's arms to face him yet again. With both hands on her arms a hard jerk was made to the left, as though he would throw her onto the ground. In fact he did let her go, but this part of the dance had been expertly drilled into their heads. They were unafraid. Yes, Hermione was now in a freefall, but Draco quickly caught hold of her arm just under the elbow, and she held onto the same place on his arm.

The music paused. It was planned that at this moment everyone in the audience would be holding their breaths. Their form had to perfect. At this moment it was. Hermione's body was elongated; her left arm was straight, fingertips pointing to the ground, and her legs were pressed together as though they were attached from the thigh right down to the toes. Draco was holding onto her just by one hand. It was amazing how much strength that took. His other arm was high above his head, and his whole body resembled a fencer as he prepared to lunge. Yes, that pause in their dancing was breathtaking, for neither Hermione nor Draco breathed.

And when the music kicked back up, Hermione swung herself up so Draco could properly grasp her other arm. He pulled her ever so slightly, yet sharply, so she was almost in a squatting position. Here he let her ago a second time, but this time there was no catching. Hermione fell and slid at the same time, but with a dancer's grace. Each move that happened next occurred in its proper second. She rolled over onto her back; her body position that of someone who had just been assaulted and was staring at her attacker with pure hate. Draco advanced. Hermione crawled backwards. And when the music gave a loud finish, Hermione sharply turned her head to the ground, as if shielding herself from another attack as Draco jumped, finishing with a hard landing, legs spread apart, and Hermione laying beneath him as he stared her down.

Now if that wasn't the Paso Doble, Hermione didn't know what was.


	4. A Passion Lost

So some say, repressed emotions are bad. Hermione had believed that to be true until three and a half weeks ago. Now she believed that repressed emotions were only bad depending on the situation. If you were dancing the Paso Doble, it was a very good thing. Ever since Hermione had overheard Draco and Maggie talking, she had never once let on that she had heard them. She kept her feelings about it on the inside (feeling used) and brought it out in the dance. The practice sessions began to decrease some as Ginny's wedding date came closer. Hermione was her maid of honor after all and had duties to perform. Though at first she thought that having less practice would ruin the dance, she found quite the opposite. Having a break from seeing Draco's face and then seeing it again only brought up fresh anger from which had lain dormant for the missing day she wasn't with him. The dance only became better and better and Maggie approved.

"You'll win indefinitely." Maggie smiled broadly. The competition was only four days away and she had come to see the finished product of her "prodigy" and his dancing partner. "With a dance like this no one will be able to touch you."

Hermione snorted as she gathered her things. No longer did she spend any extra time than needed once practice was over. She turned to Maggie and smiled. "I bet. And I'm sure that makes you _extremely_ happy."

Maggie stared at her bemused and watched her leave without saying goodbye. She then turned to Draco who was wiping the sweat from his forehead and moving strands of hair from his eyes. "Your dance with her is impeccable."

Draco gave a short nod to her and grabbed a bottle of water from off the floor. "Thank you. We've-"

"I'm worried about it."

"Worried?" Draco sighed with frustration. "Worried about what? I thought that this was what you wanted. For us to be perfect –_beyond_ perfect,"

"And you are." Maggie assured him. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms about her chest. "But I can't help but wonder what happened to get you there."

Draco clenched his jaw. "…I don't know. I didn't ask nor will I. It's too good for the dance."

"You don't want to know why she's upset with you?"

"I want to _win_, Maggie."

"From the stories you've told me about Miss Granger, she's quite the stubborn one. I'm sure she'll still be upset with you whether you know why or not." Maggie argued. "It doesn't hurt to ask. Or will it..? Draco. _Will it?_"

Draco had casted his gaze to the floor. He could feel Maggie's eyes piercing him and it was making him flinch. Eventually he looked up and spoke with hesitancy. "She irritates me. She's more than stubborn, if that's even possible. When she's mad at me I'm ready to wring her neck. I don't because I can control my anger. I thought Granger could control hers, but she can't. If I ask her what her problem is, you're right, it'll hardly do a thing. It'll do nothing but let me know what's wrong and then…I won't be mad anymore."

Maggie walked over to Draco and placed a hand on his shoulder. He avoided her stare and simply listened. "Not every dance requires real emotions, Draco. You know that better than anyone. You've done the jive, for Merlin's sake. I pressured you and Miss Granger to do exceptionally well because I thought that _she'd_ be the problem –not being able to translate the needed aggression. Why can't you fake it?"

"You can guess why." Draco said solemnly and reached for his light jacket that had been lazily tossed to the floor at the start of practice. "At this point all I'm living off of is Granger's anger towards me. I need it."

Maggie watched her star pupil gather the rest of his things and head for the exit. She was cupping her hands tightly and even holding her breath at feeling him suffer. "She'll want nothing to do with you after, you know that." Maggie called after him, but Draco merely stopped for a second, winced, and then kept going until the front door of the studio could be heard opening and closing.

"Damn it; you're pushing too hard."

"You're _attacking me_. The attacked doesn't usually push the attacker away with _gentle care_."

Draco rolled his eyes. He was rubbing the center of his chest where Hermione had pushed him and felt it burn a little. "This is an _act_, Granger. You're supposed to fake with meaning. Don't forget what's real and what's not."

Hermione huffed. "Sorry, sometimes lines of reality can become so easily_ blurred_."

Draco watched as she released her hair from her ponytail and ran her fingers through it. The competition was tomorrow, and these past three days in intense preparation had brought out the worst in her. Repression had been good in the beginning, but it was setting Draco so much on edge that when she had placed her hands on her hips and asked in a snippy tone what he was staring at, he had had enough.

"_What_ is your problem?" Draco demanded. "You've been mad at me for weeks now..!"

"We're doing the Paso Doble, Malfoy. I'm _supposed_ to be mad at you."

"Stop it. You know what I mean. Tell me what's wrong with you or we're not going to the competition tomorrow."

Hermione cocked a brow in the air. Draco had an air of pure seriousness about him as he said this, but even then she refused to believe it. "You don't mean that. It would be pure devastation for you and Maggie if we didn't go. And to answer your question, _that's_ why I'm mad at you."

Draco stared at her in confusion as she took a moment to walk around the studio. She paced for a moment, stopped, crossed her arms about her chest, and then looked back at him.

"You're using me! Winning the competition, working so hard to do this –it's all so you can win the prize money that you so happened to neglect to tell me about! What, did you think that I'd want half? How much does it cost to buy the studio from Maggie anyway? The whole prize..? You could've told me. I wouldn't have asked for any of it. For the love of Merlin, did you really think leaving me in the dark was necessary?"

Hermione went on to criticize him, saying that he really hadn't changed at all and was still just as selfish as ever. Draco on the other hand couldn't believe that _that_ was what she had been mad about this whole entire time. She had overheard his and Maggie's conversation, and now that Draco knew it, all at once he could feel himself draining. He could find reason in all the ways she had been acting these past few weeks and in the accusations she was spewing at him now. How could he be upset with her? And now, most importantly, how could he dance with her? The only thing he'd be able to feel is pity and regret.

Draco was in trouble. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to explain. He didn't want her to be angry with him. He had been deprived of her laugh, funny stories, and sensitive nature for weeks now and he wanted it back. But at the expense of losing..? Draco bit his tongue and then proceeded to bite his lips. With red impressions of nail marks in the palm of his hands, Draco rushed his next set of words so that there'd be no way to take them back or to explain.

"You're right. I used you. Anger management helped control my emotions, but unfortunately I'm still deceitful."

Hermione was appalled. Draco was suffering. Her eyes were fierce and piercing as he held back his flinches at feeling so helpless. His helplessness dropped into torment when she suddenly spoke.

"I'm backing out of the competition."

"You can't."

"Watch me."

Hermione picked up her things from the floor and hastily headed towards the door. But before she could place her hands on the doorknob, she stopped herself and turned around. "How much is it going to take to buy the studio from Maggie?"

"…Forty-five thousand,"

"And the prize money..?"

"Fifty,"

Hermione stood silently for a moment until she managed to gather her words. "I want the excess."

"What?" Draco was taken aback, but the woman in front of him showed no hesitation and she nodded.

"You heard me. I'm not a vindictive woman, but face it, you owe me Draco Malfoy. I'm not someone to be used."

With that Hermione left. Draco felt himself trembling and suddenly thought of tomorrow. He was defeated, and so was she. With as much anger she filled the practice room with, her last statement had said it all. She wasn't angry. She was hurt. Pain wasn't good for the Paso Doble. And not only had the prize money slipped through Draco's fingers, but any chance at reconciling things with Hermione had too.

Draco was pacing all the while rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. Dancehalls were usually kept cool so the dancers didn't overheat. But until the dancing actually began, Draco was positively freezing. He could only imagine how Hermione must've been feeling and then he frowned. The previous night she had written to him and said that she would meet him at the competition instead of meeting him at the studio so they could apparate together. He had been at the dancehall for the past hour and a half now and still he was without his partner. Seeing all the other contestants with their _own _partners was making him antsy –as if he wasn't nervous enough.

"Draco,"

Draco turned around on the spot to the voice that called to him, but instead of feeling relieved he was surprised, but then scowled. "I didn't know you had entered."

Ava shrugged her shoulders. Her hair had been gracefully piled on the top of her head and her dress suited that of a demure princess. Immediately Draco knew what dance she was performing, having already seen a preview of her Viennese Waltz with another professional dancer.

"It was a last minute thing." She told him. "I had difficulty finding a partner, but when I did I managed to squeeze my way through despite the deadline."

"I see. Well, good luck then." Draco said briskly and turned to leave her, but only making it so far when she spoke again.

"So where's your partner?"

"Where's yours?"

"Around here somewhere." Ava gestured to the bustling crowd behind her. "He's a grown man; I'm not his keeper."

Draco kept silent. He took in everything about her. The way she was dressed, the way she carried herself, and the way that her face happened to shine ever so radiantly. He despised it. It reminded him of what he had tried to have, but was refused. Chuckling, Draco thought of her favorite dance: Salsa. It was full of activity, vivacious, and a seemingly never-ending montage of movements and high-end emotions. But of course as with other dances, the Salsa always ends and it always ends abruptly.

"You know," Ava said with a soft smile. "If this was a professional competition and we danced together that we'd win. We're a power couple, you and I."

"I guess it's a good thing this isn't a professional competition then." Came Hermione's voice. Both Draco and Ava turned to her as she approached them. She placed her hands on her hips and smiled. "How are you, Ava?"

"Couldn't be better," She replied frigidly and forced herself to keep her smile. "I'd best be off. The competition will be starting soon. See you two on the dance floor."

Hermione gave her a gentle wave goodbye. Draco didn't so much as acknowledge her leaving. Instead he turned to his dancing partner whom he couldn't help but associate flames with. Her dress was form-fitting, loose from the waist and on in order to give her proper mobility and flare, and completely red. It was what they had agreed to –her to be dressed in all red and him in all black. Two colors associated with aggression and passion. It was perfect.

"…You look nice." Draco mustered up the courage to say. Hermione didn't thank him nor did she return a compliment. She merely rubbed her shoulders and sighed.

"The competition should start soon. We've got a pretty low number so let's get into position."

**Author's note: **Hello! I just wanted to take the time out to say thank you to everyone who's been reading/following/favorite this story. It really means a lot!

-WP


	5. What Dancing Really Means

Hermione led the way even though she didn't know the layout of the venue. Draco followed solemnly and felt himself grow heavy. The tension between them was bitter-tasting and it made his face cringe. The pair of them waited off to the side for when the range of numbers that included them was called. Draco kept his hands in his pockets and anxiously tapped his foot. He didn't realize that it was so loud until Hermione said something about it. Immediately he stopped. If he hadn't he probably wouldn't have heard the announcer say, "One through thirty-five! Please step out onto the dance floor!"

Draco held his breath. He stretched out his hand for Hermione to take and saw the look on her face. She looked as though she'd rather swim in an acidic lake than to put her hand in his, but she did it otherwise. They walked out onto the dance floor with their heads held up high as did all the other competitors. They too were doing the Paso Doble. That's how the competitors were arranged. The primary dances that were ever performed were the Paso Doble, Samba, Salsa, Viennese Waltz, and the Tango. All those who were performing a certain dance danced together. With the beauty of magic, each couple was captured on video which was reviewed between breaks. Before the next group of dancers went out the winner of the past group would be announced. After all winners from each group were announced, their replay would air for everyone to see and then the judges would make their final decision.

Once they were in the middle of the floor Draco went to release Hermione's hand but she suddenly clasped it. He looked at her and saw at once all her resolve fall as she looked all around her. She took a deep breath and swallowed. "Will there be enough space?"

Draco wanted to smile at her. Aside from the question that she had asked, it was the way that she had asked it that seemed so innocent and so naïve. But he could understand her fear. The past few months were spent in a small room with just the two of them. To venture to an enormous place with other people –people who were competing against you –and being judged, it would cause some unease. Draco saw to rid of her discomfort, but not by doing something nice.

"I'm sure fixating yourself on how much you detest me will get your mind off of it."

Hermione huffed and readily let his hand go. She went on to mumble something about not properly answering her question, but her response was just what Draco wanted. He got himself ready. He knew Maggie was watching somewhere, but at his request she was sitting somewhere he couldn't see. He waited. He breathed and he waited for the kick in the music. There used to be a time when he first began dancing that whenever the music came on it was such a startle that Draco had lost track of what he was to do. Number and rhythm was key in dance no matter what it was. One move lacking in precision could cost him everything.

When the music started Draco made contact with Hermione's eyes. She was mad at him alright; and each step she took was perfect. Her facial expression was flawless. The amount of force she used to push him away was just enough, but not too much. Everything about her was…as Maggie would say, beyond perfection. And yet Draco still felt off. He frowned within himself when he realized that all imperfections were coming from him. He didn't step hard enough. He didn't move fierce enough. And he was sure that the expression on his face expressed hurt and regret rather than anger. The only part of the dance he felt satisfied with –more than satisfied really –was when he was holding her. That one part of the dance where the audience, as well as he and Hermione, was holding their breaths as the dancing couple held onto an exquisite form. Draco only supposed it was done to perfection because he didn't want her to fall. He wanted her to be safe from harm. Eventually he did have to let her fall however, and the end of the dance was executed just as fairly, because just enough anger at himself for being so pathetic drove him to a wonderful finish.

And just as quickly as it began, the Paso Doble was over. Draco escorted Hermione off of the dance floor and they took their seats at the edge of the arena. Neither spoke. They just sat there drinking water that they took from floating trays and partaking in nervous habits such as nail biting and foot jingling. After what seemed like an eternity run over twice the announcer came out onto the middle of the floor.

"First and foremost," the announcer began. "Before I disclose the winning couple of the Paso Doble round, I must mention that the judges were very impressed by what they saw and would like to congratulate all of you."

There was applause from the audience and Draco rolled his eyes. Each clap was a second wasted and a nasty jab at his patience.

"And the winners of the Paso Doble are…! Couple number twenty-three, Draco Malfoy and his partner Hermione Granger..!"

Hermione nearly fell off of her chair before catching herself. Draco on the other hand was in awe. He knew himself. He knew at what level he could perform and that wasn't it. He could count the number of times that he messed up and knew that if this was a professional competition there'd be no way for him to win. But he knew why it worked this time. This competition was all about the nonprofessional dancer. The judges were looking at that –at Hermione. And Draco could in no way exaggerate when saying that she had looked, and was, sensational.

There was nothing left to do now but wait. There were four other groups left to dance and so Draco could breathe. He looked over at Hermione every now and again who seemed to be trying wholeheartedly not to even sniff in his direction. Sighing, he crossed his arms about his chest and leaned back into his chair.

"What are you going to do with your share?"

Hermione turned her head to him in confusion. "My what…?"

"Your share," Draco repeated. "You know; the money you're going to get when we win."

Hermione snorted. "You're so cocky. There're four other couples the judges are going to be looking at. We might not win."

"Pessimism doesn't look good on you."

"It's called being realistic, Malfoy. But I suppose someone like you who's always used to getting what he wants wouldn't think like that."

Draco groaned in frustration. He decided to keep quiet then. There was no need for anger anymore, so why provoke it? Instead he stared at the dance floor. He watched all the other competitors and remarked the mistakes made and amazing choreography. When the section for the Viennese Waltz came on, Draco only watched half-heartedly. Ava was there, basking in all her grace and moving with fluidity with her partner. It was no surprise that the judges announced her and her partner's name as the winners. And even though they won, Draco still had high hopes for the win. The times that he did look at the twirling couple, he could see where Ava's partner should've had better body structure but didn't, missed a count, and wore a look of worry on his face rather than sincerity. Those were mistakes Hermione hadn't made. Draco was proud of that and looked over at her. She, however, was too busy trying to fix something on her shoes that didn't need fixing.

"Will all the winners please come to the dance floor!" one of the judged announced. Hermione looked up from her preoccupation to see Draco already on his feet and holding his hand out to her. She sighed, reluctant to place her hand in his but did so anyway. Draco remarked that the falsies were back –the fake smiles, the attitude that she _really_ wanted to be there with him and enjoyed having him as a partner.

Draco walked out with her onto the middle of the floor, highly satisfied that Ava and her partner were at the far end of the line and away from them. He stared out ahead of him and at the judge. In that moment something struck him odd. Usually when announcing winners the trophy would be set on a pedestal right next to the judge. It wasn't there this time, and all of a sudden Draco felt a sinking in his stomach –an even bigger drop once the announcer said what he feared.

"We have a tie," He called to the crowd, and Draco felt a jolt of pressure clasp onto his arm from Hermione. "The Wallaby Dancing Competition hasn't had a tie in twenty years, and the judges and I are thrilled to have one yet again. There is _one_ trophy and grand prize, and so the two tying couples that I will announce shall compete against each other. The type of dance was out of two choices chosen at random, and those choices were the types of dances that the winners had previously danced tonight.

'And so the two couples are Ava Lorelei and David Isles and Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger… Competing dance: the Viennese Waltz. You have twenty minutes to prepare."

Draco immediately looked over at Hermione who looked positively petrified. Draco took her hand then and led her from the dance floor and into the back where she exploded in frustration.

"How in Merlin's _name_ is that even fair!" Hermione wailed. "Did you _see_ Ava? Her dance was flawless."

"Her dance might have been, but her partner's could've used work."

"This isn't funny, Malfoy. We haven't practiced the Viennese Waltz. We're going to lose! Humph, 'chosen at random…' That's hardly the case I'm sure. They want them to win-!"

"They want us to do better." Draco contradicted. Hermione stared at him in confusion and he sighed. "You're right. Whenever there's a tie the chosen dance type is never at random. In fact it's never even truly a tie. It happens like that because some of the judges like one particular couple, and the others believe that another couple could've won if they had just done a smidgen better.

'They chose the Viennese Waltz because they feel that Ava and her partner can't do any better. They think that we can."

"But we haven't _practiced_." Hermione emphasized. Draco placed his hands on her shoulders, hoping she wouldn't snap at him for doing so, and then sighed in relief when she didn't.

"This is _your dance_, Granger. I've told you so. You could do it in your sleep, you know that."

Hermione couldn't contain her blushing. She wriggled herself from under Draco's hands then and crossed her arms about her chest. "…So what if it is. I'm not dancing the Waltz alone; I'm doing it with you. The Tango and the Waltz are two _completely_ different avenues. That's why we did the Paso Doble in the first place."

"I know that." Draco took a moment to run his hands through his hair and then he gritted his teeth. It was now or never. "The Waltz is about admitting emotions, letting things go, right?"

"…Right,"

"Well, then…I have a few things to admit."

Hermione stared at him in surprise as Draco rubbed his hands together and took a few deep breaths in order to calm his nerves. "I'm sorry for not telling you about the prize money. I didn't do it to deliberately leave you out. It was…just something that I didn't mention-"

"Just something you didn't mention..?" Hermione repeated credulously. She scoffed. "Malfoy-"

"Shh, let me finish." Draco interrupted. Hermione looked like she was ready to lash out at him, but his next set of words stopped her. "The conversation between Maggie and me wasn't just about money. That was all you took away from it, but you didn't understand the underpinning of it. The Paso Doble _wasn't working_. It wasn't working because we weren't mad at each other. We didn't hate each other. After that I noticed that you were really upset with me. I didn't know why, but I pretended like I didn't know something was wrong. It was good for the dance. Maggie loved it…for a while. She was concerned about why you were so mad at me. It couldn't have been because I was making you practice for long hours.

'Maggie wanted me to find out, but I told her that I wouldn't. If I knew… You've got to realize I was feeding off of how pissed off at me you were. So if I knew what was wrong, I'd care. I wouldn't have been able to be mad at you. I wouldn't have been able to do the dance."

"…I've seen you, Malfoy." Hermione started off slowly. She then huffed and shook her head. "I've seen you dance plenty of times. The silhouettes on the outside of the studio," She explained, and then hid the reddening of her face. "You've danced everything. And from what I've learned from you everything requires emotion. You could've faked it."

"Those women I never knew personally." Draco defended. "None of them I truly ever liked."

Hermione chuckled condescendingly. "What, so you hated them?"

"I don't mean like in that sense, Granger."

Hermione grew quiet. Draco was looking embarrassed and for the first time ever his face flushed. Hermione didn't know what to say then. She held herself and rubbed her hands over her shoulders. Draco began avoiding her gaze just as she had been avoiding his. Ava and her partner came into Hermione's line of view for a moment and her stare lingered on them. They looked so pleased with themselves like as if the competition had already been won. But if there was one thing that Draco had taught her it was to never become complacent. When complacent all emotions got set down to the side. She turned her eyes back to Draco who was taking a great interest in his shoes. Sighing, she walked over to him and placed a finger under his chin to make him look at her.

Hermione smiled. "Let's go win."

Draco followed suit and let a smile come to his lips. When it was time to get back out onto the dance floor Draco felt relieved. He had just released everything that had been on his mind for the past few weeks within minutes and now, as tacky as it sounded, felt as airy as the songs used for a Waltz. He and Hermione took their positions long before the dance was to start. Draco wondered what she was thinking. He had told her that he liked her and her single reply was about winning. Was there something imbedded in those words that Draco was supposed to get?

Maybe there was. Maybe it was in the dance and how Hermione smiled more than necessary. It seemed that she felt at peace in his arms. He hoped that he felt the same in hers. They flowed across the floor with grace as though there wasn't another couple on the floor with them. And all at once it felt like they weren't just alone on the floor, but alone in the room they had practiced in. When the song gave its soft, slow finish, Draco and Hermione were in a twirl, and it ended with Hermione gently being pulled back into Draco's arms, their faces inches apart and staring into each other's eyes that portrayed nothing short of satisfaction and happiness.

"…Even if we don't win," Draco started. "Know that I didn't make a mistake in choosing you for a dance partner."

"Now look who's being pessimistic."

Draco laughed. Hermione joined in and neither of them noticed that the announcers had made their decision. The entire dance hall was applauding and standing on their feet. Draco and Hermione finally broke apart in time to see one of the judges going up to them with a trophy in his hands.

"Congratulations!" He said proudly and Draco and Hermione hugged each other excitedly; completely forgetting the announcer who was holding the heavy trophy in his hands.

Hermione bought a stand for the trophy. To her utter surprise Draco had told her to keep it. So he said, it was a competition for non-professional dancers. She had deserved it. And so she kept it in her living room as a constant reminder of her accomplishment as well as a reminder of Draco.

Ginny's wedding was the next day and Hermione was heading over to the Burrow that night since that was where the wedding was taking place. As she was getting her things ready, her gaze constantly went to the trophy and she thought of what Draco was doing now. Granted she had only last seen him yesterday, but now the dance studio was his. She could picture him walking around it alone, taking it all in, and then wondering how the hell it had happened. Hermione reckoned that she would see him again. Now that she had unmasked the silhouette that had plagued her for months and danced with him, it would be hard to stay away.

Sighing, Hermione heard a knock on her door. She closed her trunk and set it upright before she went to the front door, completely surprised at seeing Draco behind it.

"Surprised to see me, I take it?"

Was it her gasp that let him know that she was confused, let alone surprised, at his visit? Yes and no. It was also the fact that her mouth was slightly agape of which she closed quickly and tightly.

"Um, a bit, yes… Why are you here?"

"I came to give you this." Draco reached into his pocket and handed Hermione a piece of paper. When it was in Hermione's hands she realized that it was a check. "It's your share."

Hermione snapped her eyes to him. As she looked back down at the check in her hands she sighed and shook her head. "I can't accept it."

"But-"

"I know what I said before, but I was mad then." Hermione handed Draco the check back and continued shaking her head. "I don't want it."

"You must want something." Draco replied. He shrugged and leaned against the door frame. "You worked hard. You should get something out of all of this, not just me."

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing that I want, really." Hermione replied. "I didn't even want to keep the trophy until you forced it into my hands." She chuckled. She sighed, awkwardly standing in front of Draco who hadn't taken his eyes off of her the moment she had opened the door. After another scary moment of silence, Hermione dared to say one thing. "…Maybe…there's one thing that I wouldn't mind from you. Well, two…"

"Two?" Draco repeated. Hermione nodded.

"The first is an answer. I once asked you if I was as good as you thought I was when you first saw me dance. You said you'd tell me when we won."

"Right…" Draco said as he rubbed the back of his neck. He ungentlemanly sucked his teeth, took a deep breath, and slowly began to shake his head. "No… You were better."

Hermione smiled as Draco blushed terribly. "Alright, what's the second thing?"

Hermione's smile widened. That "second thing" was the last thing that Draco had expected. Her request was to be her escort to her best friend's wedding. Naturally, Draco protested, but they compromised. He would show up for the reception, which he did, and characteristically complained in Hermione's ear.

"Explain to me why I'm doing this again?"

"Because you _like_ me, remember?" Hermione teased.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Tell a woman you like her and you're under her thumb in a heartbeat."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, just shut up and dance with me."

Draco smiled and agreed. Yes there were looks. Yes, there were whispers. But they were easy to ignore. Dancing with Hermione always made other people disappear. And so it was settled. And so Draco told her so.

All they had to do was keep dancing. Dance for peace. Dance for solitude.

**Author's note:** Well, everyone, that's the end of my fic. Just wanted to say thanks for reading/reviewing and I hope that you enjoyed it! Feel free to check out my other story, One Week.

Thanks!

-WP


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